The warm smell of roasted coffee beans and sun-soaked fur filled the air as Luna adjusted the cafe apron around her waist, a sleek black number embroidered with little white paw prints.
Around her, the soft jingle of bells from wandering cats mixed with the gentle hum of light jazz playing in the background. It was a slow mid-morning shift at Purradise Cat Lounge, but with Ken off for the day, Luna had been given the manager's badge—literally, a shiny little pin that said "Interim Boss (Be Nice To Me)".
Behind the counter, the espresso machine hissed softly as George, the ever-gruff and square-jawed barista, emerged from the back, his arms holding several neatly wrapped parcels in bright, tropical wrapping paper.
"Oi, boss-for-a-day," George grunted, but his lips curled into a rare smirk. "Gotcha some souvenirs from the trip. Don't go thinking I'm soft or anything."
He plopped the packages down onto the counter. There was a beautifully woven straw bag, a lacquered keychain with a tiny painted beach scene, and—of all things—a bag of gourmet dried mangoes shaped like cartoon cats.
Luna blinked in surprise. "George! This is way too much!" She picked up the bag and turned it over with awe. "Did Ken get this much?"
George sniffed. "Ken's lucky I remembered to bring him a shell."
Luna giggled, eyes gleaming. "You're so biased. I feel honored."
"You better." He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed as he watched one of the cats—Onigiri, a chonky tuxedo—climb onto the table nearby. "Was a damn good trip, though. Five-star beach hotel, all expenses covered. Even got a fat pocket money envelope, so thanks for the tickets, it was way worth it taking your shift that day." He said this with a grin that practically stretched to his ears.
"Glad to hear you got to enjoy it," Luna said, putting her souvenirs aside and resting her elbows on the counter. "So what did you and your wife do the whole time? Swim? Fancy dinners?"
George chuckled, a low, rolling sound. "Swam like kids. Snorkeled. Watched the stars from the balcony. Ate like royalty every night. Had a couple of romantic beach walks. You know, the whole my-back-hurts-but-I'm-happy package." He looked genuinely softened as he said it. "Would've stayed another week if I could. Maybe forever."
"I bet it was hard to go back to the grind, huh?" Luna smiled.
"Brutal," he groaned. "First coffee I made this morning nearly made me cry. But duty calls."
Luna laughed, her eyes crinkling. "I feel you. I just got back from a camping trip with Kana, Mary, and Auren. Lakeside cabin, karaoke, lazy mornings... We rolled down a hill and ate like kings. I wanted to sink into the forest floor and never return."
George gave her a look of exaggerated mock pity. "That's rough, boss. Real rough."
"Isn't it?" she chuckled. "But I guess if we want to afford the next great escape, we've gotta keep working, huh?"
"Capitalism at its finest," George said with a mock salute.
Luna turned to help a customer at the register, but not before glancing back at George. His usual gruffness had taken on a lighter air, and for a moment, the cat café didn't feel like work at all—just a peaceful stopover between chapters.
Just then, Onigiri batted a coffee stirrer off the counter. George reached to pick it up with a tired sigh.
"Remind me why I came back again?" he muttered.
Luna laughed again and offered him a playful wink. "Because we missed you, obviously."
The golden light of dusk bathed the streets as Luna stood outside Purradise Cat Lounge, jingling the keys in her hand before sliding them into the lock. She tugged the glass door twice, making sure it was sealed shut.
"Alright, locking up done." She turned to George, who was adjusting his scarf, ready to head off. "Don't forget to come back tomorrow. Oh, and don't forget to get your wife that pudding. She called the café twice, you know."
George grunted, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the twitch at the corner of his mouth. "I ain't so ancient I need reminders like a post-it on my forehead." Then, as he turned and walked off down the street, Luna heard the buzz of his phone—and unmistakably, George's deep voice: "Hey hon, I'm grabbing that pudding you wanted."
She chuckled softly and shook her head, turning the opposite way toward the nearby convenience store.
With her favorite spicy seafood cup noodles, a few bags of cat treats for Milo, and an extra drink in hand, Luna was just stepping out of the store when something shifted in the air. It was subtle, but the calm murmur of the city streets suddenly felt too quiet.
Then—
"Miss Luna, stay low!" one of her hidden guards barked from behind her.
Three black-clad figures moved with lightning precision, surrounding her like a trained pack of wolves. A fourth pulled up in a sleek armored car by the curb, back door already open.
"What—?" Luna blinked, startled, her snacks slipping from her hands. "What's going on—?"
Before she could finish, a scream pierced the air, followed by the sharp crack of gunfire. People scattered. Chaos exploded.
A group of five men, rugged and grim-faced, surged from an alleyway with compact assault rifles, aiming for Luna's direction. The bark of gunfire sent sparks flying from nearby signs, shattered windows, and knocked down pedestrians.
"GO!" a guard shouted, practically shoving her into the car.
The car lurched forward the moment she was inside, tires screeching, her body jerking from the sudden force. Her breath hitched, heart hammering in her ears.
Her phone rang, almost slipping from her shaking fingers. Dad.
She accepted the call. "Dad—!"
"Luna! Are you alright?" Emmerich's voice was sharp, tight with panic.
"I—people—guns—they were shooting at me—" Luna gasped. "I don't—Dad, they shot people! I saw someone fall! They're chasing us!"
Through the reinforced glass, she could see a black SUV barreling behind them. Her driver swerved onto a narrow road, barely missing a parked van.
"I'm here. I've got you. Focus on my voice, sweetheart." Emmerich's tone shifted into a calming cadence. "You're safe for now. I've already dispatched two intercept teams and a helicopter drone. They'll reach you in less than two minutes."
Luna pressed her palm to her chest, trying to control her ragged breathing. "They're still behind us—Dad, what's going on?"
"I don't know yet, but I swear on everything I have—I will find out who they are. Stay with your team. Don't try anything reckless."
Luna nodded even though he couldn't see her. "Okay…"
In the front seat, the driver gave a tight shout. "Hold on! We're cutting through the riverside underpass. I'll try to lose them there."
Behind them, bullets sparked off the vehicle's bulletproof rear. Luna flinched at the sound.
Through it all, Emmerich was still on the line, barking orders into another device while speaking to her. "Luna, listen to me. Keep your head down. You'll be safe soon. Just a little longer, alright?"
"Okay," she whispered, voice small, clutching her phone like a lifeline.
Outside, lights blurred past as the car dipped into the dark curve of the underpass. Sirens wailed faintly in the distance. Above it all, Luna could only hold on tight and pray the people hurt earlier would survive… and wonder—who could be targeting her so brazenly?
The helipad was bathed in harsh floodlights, the air thick with rotors and the sharp scent of jet fuel.
Luna stumbled from the armored car, escorted on either side by the last two bodyguards who hadn't fallen during the ambush. Her boots scraped the concrete as the helicopter's engine whined to full throttle.
Emmerich, face like stone, was barking commands into his comms, eyes constantly scanning the shadows beyond the floodlights. "I want aerial drones on a full sweep! And counter-sniper teams on every rooftop within a two-mile radius—NOW!"
The wind from the spinning blades tugged at Luna's clothes and hair as she reached the chopper's open side. A crewman helped her up, yelling something she couldn't hear over the deafening roar. She turned to glance behind—
—and saw one of her guards' heads snap back violently, a red mist blooming mid-air before he crumpled without a sound.
"No—!" Luna screamed, reaching out—but the other bodyguard shoved her fully inside.
Another shot.
The second bodyguard fell just as Luna was being strapped in. Her mouth opened, but no sound came. Her ears were ringing now, not from the rotor, but from sheer panic.
Bang.
The floor of the helicopter shook as it suddenly lifted off in a sharp jolt, swerving dangerously to the right, then dipped low—too low—grazing over trees and the roof of a nearby building.
"Hold on!" the pilot barked. "Sniper tracking us—evasive pattern, now!"
Luna's shoulder slammed against the cabin wall, her phone clattering to the floor and skidding across the vibrating metal. It hit the corner hard—a sickening crunch—and its screen fizzled, spiderwebbed with cracks.
She barely noticed.
Her eyes were wide, glued to the window as she saw the lifeless bodies of her guards being left behind. Protected her.
Tears streaked her cheeks as she clutched the seatbelt across her chest. She tried to breathe.
In. Out. In. Out.
But it wasn't working. Her vision blurred from tears, her breaths short and stuttering.
"They're dead," she whispered. "They're… they died protecting me…"
The pilot said nothing. He couldn't. His entire focus was on keeping them alive.
On the ground, Emmerich's jaw clenched so tight a vein in his temple throbbed. He'd watched the killshots through the live drone feed—a flawless double-tap execution from a professional-grade rifle. He hadn't even been able to yell a warning.
"Trace that sniper!" he barked into the comms, his voice laced with cold fury. "I want a satellite trace on thermal scope—he couldn't have gotten far. Put every unit on lockdown. Use Dead Sector Protocol Theta."
The air shifted as several SUVs and tactical vehicles moved into formation, enclosing the area in an aggressive, bristling perimeter.
A senior agent jogged up, saluting. "Sir, Luna's helicopter is heading to the Woodwind emergency estate. ETA twelve minutes."
"Good," Emmerich muttered, though the word barely sounded like one. He closed his eyes for half a heartbeat before snapping them open. "We've been breached. Someone inside knew her route. I want every asset vetted, every line tapped. This wasn't random."
Inside, beneath all the orders and protocol, a father's soul trembled with guilt and rage. He had promised her safety. And she had watched people die for her.
"I'm sorry, baby girl," he whispered under his breath. "I won't let this slide. I swear, I will burn down the world if I have to."
He turned sharply and moved toward the command vehicle, already preparing the next wave of retaliation. Because somewhere out there, the one who orchestrated this was watching.
And Emmerich Arklight was going to make sure they never forgot what it meant to hurt his daughter.
—
The sky tore open with a deafening boom.
The helicopter shuddered violently mid-air, alarms blaring as a missile clipped the rear rotor. Luna screamed as the aircraft jerked sideways, spinning uncontrollably, the world outside the window turning in a wild blur of night and trees and water.
"Brace!" the pilot yelled hoarsely, blood already running down his temple. "We're going in—!"
Crash.
The chopper slammed into the lake, tail-first, metal shrieking as it ripped through the surface.
Water burst in from the cracks, cold and choking. Luna's seatbelt snapped. The impact threw her forward, banging her shoulder against the wall. The force left her disoriented, lungs screaming for air.
The crewman died from a glass piercing his windpipe.
Luna's mind almost blanked when she saw the crewman. Dead with his eyes and mouth open.
But then— something kicked in.
Not adrenaline. Not training. Something deeper.
A raw instinct to survive.
She reached out in the freezing murk, found the pilot slumped over the controls.
Bleeding badly.
Trapped.
But still alive.
"No," Luna gasped, bubbles spilling from her lips. She grabbed him, pushed against the door that barely opened, kicked it—once, twice, then again. It gave way.
They emerged into the open lake, Luna pulling the unconscious pilot with every ounce of strength her battered limbs could offer. Her vision blurred with cold and terror, but she didn't stop.
Couldn't.
When they finally reached the muddy shore, Luna collapsed, heaving for air, her hands trembling violently.
But the pilot was still bleeding.
"Don't… don't you die too," she whispered. Her teeth chattered. Her fingers fumbled at the wound, ripped off her soaked shirt and pressed it hard over the gash. "Just hold on—okay? Just…"
Blood soaked through the makeshift bandage. Her breathing came in hiccups, but she kept pressure steady. This man flew her out. Got her this far.
A rustle behind her.
She turned— too late.
Rough arms grabbed her. A sharp prick at her neck.
Luna struggled, barely, vision swimming. She heard garbled voices, boots in the mud, and the distinct metallic clatter of weapons.
"...Target secured."
"...extract now before the old man arrives."
She tried to say something—tried to scream.
But darkness won.
In a silent, reinforced bunker beneath Arklight Renewables, Emmerich stood before the screen, eyes locked on the wreckage footage.
His knuckles were bloodless from clenching.
"She survived the crash. She got to the shore." His voice was quiet. Too quiet.
One of his command agents nodded shakily. "Yes, sir. We lost visual right after—heat signatures confirm an extraction team intercepted her. Unknown origin."
"Unknown origin," Emmerich repeated, voice like cracking ice. "You mean to tell me—with every satellite, drone, and tracer we've deployed—we still let them take my daughter?"
No one answered.
Emmerich turned to the room, eyes burning.
"I don't care how. I don't care what it costs. I don't care who you have to call. You get her back."
He stepped closer, cold fury radiating from him like a storm.
"Mobilize the Black Sun team. Deploy every field agent. I want her location pinpointed. NOW."
"Yes, sir!" the room chorused.
Then Emmerich looked back at the final frozen frame of the satellite footage—Luna, kneeling over the wounded pilot, shirt pressed against his chest, saving someone else even as she too was hurting.
And Emmerich Arklight, the man who built an empire with steel and secrets, whispered:
"You took the wrong girl."